


Project WSO: A Monarchs President

by KaffeeKup



Category: Ace Combat, Project Wingman (Video Game)
Genre: Crimson One annoys me, Dialogue n shit, Friendship, Humor, Monarch is anon, Other, Pet Names, Prez does a lot of work, Prez is best girl, Wholesome Prez/Monarch content, they good friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:08:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27923539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaffeeKup/pseuds/KaffeeKup
Summary: A Project Wingman fanfic. Prez and Monarch find themselves in the middle of nowhere and with a angry Crimson One bearing down on them. He has the tech, the plane and the equipment to win. Monarch though? Monarch has Prez and Prez has Monarch. A wholesome fic  making fun of Crimson One and establishing a relationship between our two characters.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Project WSO: A Monarchs President

"Oh fuck me"

"Talk to me Prez,what the fuck happened?"

How could she even begin to describe it? Hundreds of aircraft, ground troops and even the Eminent Domains battlegroup was just wiped off the radar, callsigns gone. Entire units no longer responding to her pings and call and even the three AWACS planes they brought with them to Presidium didn't even raise a squeak when she tried to hail. The normally massive metropolis that made the capital city was gone, skyscrapers fell down into the earth and districts that made millions just ceased to exist.

If that wasn't bad enough the clouds had started shooting railgun looking lightning and everything was orange, the ground was cracked wide open and now it was just them, her and Monarch.

"I got nothing" Prez , President or Prezzy to her friends had literally no idea what to do, the mission orders stated to take the capital and they did that, and now there was _no capital._ Or even an actual Cascadia, its military or someone other than Prez and her g force defying pilot left by the looks of it. Sicaro was hopefully just not responding because she really didn't want to fancy her chances of ditching in the middle of an earthquake zone.

"You raise anyone?" Monarch's voice crackled through the static of a post nuclear inflicted com chatter between them, in the same plane and Prez shook her head.

"No ones here"

"Shit"

"Agreed"

She scanned her radar again, doing her best to filter through the destroyed last known positions, seeking even a squeak of movement. Nothing.

"Comms show nothing, radar too" She reported, lightly tapping her keyboard as she hurriedly attempted to work through possible solutions, a normal WSO only had access to the weapon systems and other basic things but thanks to Monarchs ridiculous payout and kill count they had managed to afford a full ECM and communications suite for Prez in their two seater. If push came to shove Prez could act as a surrogate AWACS for them and their flight,sure it was cramped as hell but well worth the time and finance if Kaiser ever asked. And still all of that money, that experience and the equipment that they had meant basically nothing. The lightning storms from the clouds kept sparking and interfering with communications beyond short range (and even came into their cockpit chatter!) and the constantly kicking up debris outright fucked any hope of discriminating between the hopefully living and a random piece of flying rock, or skyscraper top.

"Prez" Monarch called again and she snapped to attention from her musings.

"Whats up?"

"What's our exit strategy"

Prez narrowed her eyes and kicked the back of Monarchs chair. "Hey you're the one in command, im just the WSO!"

Monarch chuckled and jerked the plane a full 360, making her shriek a little as her typing to notify the base back home came as a embarrassingly long string of "wwwwwww". "You're the one who studies that shit, I'm just the pilot"

"Fine, I'll make sure to add another 5% to my paycut for not only managing your weapons AND ECM AND telling you and the flight what to do, communicating with YOUR AWACS but also now actually reading the mission briefing, why not?" She huffed and added "Monarch is a dick" to her planned send out to base when they resorted comms.

"Dick" She added verbally.

"Uh-hu" Came the response that was obviously preceded by a tremendously smug amount of eye rolling.

Prez had a good one lined up, one that inferred something about Monarch being a bottom when it came to who was actually in charge but then an actual verifiable signal popped up on the radar, followed by a -unknown- call tag. Naturally she hailed them, anyone could have changed their tags if the area around the capital had gone to shit and it could have even been a moronic airline of sightseers so better safe than sorry.

"Prez?" Monarch had probably been expecting her response to the previous dick waving competition.

"I got something, hold up"

"What is it?"

"Dunno, I'm hailing"

"This is Cascadian Auxiliary Air Force Sicario Corporation, designation Hitman One. Callsign President speaking to uh, unknown. You are currently entering a warzone and an electromagnetic bracketed area. State your intention and turn around please".

"Nice job, did you practise that?"

She kicked the seat again for goodmeasure and then turned up the volume to hear the slow crackle of sound that was emitting from the other craft.

"Monarch is that you, too afraid to speak so you let your bitch handle it?"

Prez went white and Monarch swore.

"Crimson One? The war's over" Monarch replied as calmly as they could.

"Over? For everyone else. Probably. For us? No. It's not over"

"Shit" Prez groaned.

She scanned the errant newcomers craft. A fast one that was definitely another prototype like they one that had fought twice, and it was big too. Plus and to make things worse, it was emitting Corridium heavier than a flying fucking battleship.

Then came the railguns, a massive slice of orange through the sky that Monarch barely avoided, the sharp turn forcing Prez's head to smack into the back of her seat and she tasted blood in her mouth. To make it even worse the electromagnetic charge of the railgun practically felt like it burst her eardrums. Things got even worse when the after effects splattered from her ear pieces into her hearing, the bastard had rigged up the volume of his railguns into the radio.

Prez screamed, wincing and clutching her forehead cladded helmet.

"Prez?" A concerned voice crackled over and she gave a pained mumble in return.

"President?" She groaned back in response.

"Dammit Prezzie I'm not losing you too!" Monarch roared and hit the afterburners, dodging another railgun shell.

"I'm-not"

A flurry of missiles descended from above and one of the miniature missiles scorched into the left wing, throwing their plane off balance for a second, Prez gripped her chair handles and steadied herself, lowering the response volume on her ear pieces.

"I'm with you Monarch!"  
  
~~~~

"We got incoming from the right!, dodge now!"

"Railguns charging! Make some room Monarch!"

"Gun's locked on! Give him a burst for me!"

The usual saying around Hitman team was that Monarch came out of a fight bloody and with a caffeine addiction while Prez was always hoarse and drank too much redbull. This fight was no different, Prez kept up her A-game, calling out predictions of when Crimson would fire that damm railgun or the seemingly endless amount of micro missiles his plane was loaded with. The plane he was flying didnt even have conventional engines, instead with outtakes similar to those of airships and adding orange sparks to an already single colour overloaded hellscape they were in.

And when she wasn't going hoarse with brief but constant call outs, she was fighting her own war. While Monarch used their plane with its guns and missiles and bombs, she would wage a battle over the radio, over the radar. Jamming enemy weapon systems, her own moves and counter moves.

This fight entailed roughly the same thing, except it was getting Crimson One to shut the fuck up with his rightious ranting and what she suspected to be a highly advanced AI software that managed the constant barrage of railguns, the ECM that caused Monarch to scream in frustration every time they tried to get a lock on.

This was her war, Crimson could have his AI.

But Monarch had their Prezzie.

And Prezzie wasn't going to let her pilot down.

AIs could multi task and so could she. She just needed a few more minutes to put together her theory.

"Prez we're pinned here, get me a lock on dammit" Monarch scowled again as Crimson's AI jammed a missile lock and then Crimson flipped a 180 and darted off into the clouds again. They should have killed that slippery fucker so many times but he kept dodging everything they could throw at him and the stray bullet that did hit simply wasn't having an effect.

Prez knew that AIs could react , plan and make a counter move a thousand times faster than she could, but they couldn't think outside the box. Crimson one was obviously piloting a massively expensive piece of plane, loaded with software that would cause a server room to blush. But they couldn't think like a WSO , like she could. And she was banking on that.

They had four missiles left, the battle for the capital left them short on fuel and ammunition. So Prez had kept Monarch from firing the missiles for now, to converse and to only react to the enemy ace.

Monarch turned the plane again, Prez braced herself for another gut turning maneuver as they followed Crimson into the clouds, close enough that she could make out the Corridium flare of the dual engines that Crimson had.

The plane shook , Monarch fired a good long burst that caused Crimson to start ranting on the radio (again) , something about this being a battle of kings or something. She didn't pay much attention of course, there were high school students that a better level of emotional maturity to this guy.

"Dammit Prez what the fuck are we fighting here?"

"No idea Monnie, reminds me of that piloted death machine with the guns a while back though"

The missiles came again, flares popping off automatically and immediately after the micro missiles split off into dozens of forms and came at them, Monarch dodged again but Prez wasnt paying attention to that.

The AI made a mistake. It fired the missiles first and then the flares.

"Prez what are you thinking?" Monarchs voice came over, a tingle of concern about her silence.

"I have a theory"

"Oh no"

"Get me a good look at that plane Monarch"

"Are you serious"

"Do you want to spend another forty minutes on a low tank and ammo?"

"Fine"

Prez keyed in her HUD to Monarchs, following their janky movement as they locked onto Crimson visually and then the chase, the latest in many happened. They went through the clouds, the electromagnetic storm causing flickering and glitches but their system held up (much to Prez's pride), the two aces then fought a gun duel, speeding past each other and too quickly for a visual scan.

"Get him Monnie!" Prez shouted her encouragement as Monarch put a good burst into one of Crimsons engines as they back flipped, causing a temporary slowdown that gave her the proof she needed.

She started furiously typing, screenshotting the fighter and using it as a visual reference in her monitor.

"Did you get what you needed?" Monarch asked, their voice betraying that they _really didn't want to get that close again._

"Aye ,give me a few minutes"

"Minutes?"

She kicked the back of the chair again and got to work.

Crimsons plane, Prez-designated PW-MK1 was a truly huge thing, at least twice the size of her and Monarchs one. It had protruding missile pods that faced forwards and coupled with the sheer speed of the thing and the way that they were angled forwards and sat at the back of the fighter confirmed her theory.

The micro missiles that plagued her and Monarch, that constantly threatened to hit them so they couldn't get a proper lead on Crimson fired slowly at start and would lock onto the first thing they saw. The insane agility they had too was also a plus one in her theory, the damms thing were probably loaded with so much propellent that the targeting had to be simple, not enough room probably.

So naturally that meant that Crimson's ai had to immediately fire off a burst of flares to force the missiles to come at Prez and Monarch instead.

Prez smiled for the first time in a few days, she had a plan now.

"Monarch, ready a missile and fire when I say so, also follow him. Please"

"What?"

"Trust me?"

"I trust you"

Prez blushed and mumbled a thank you.

She swore Monarch chuckled and somehow knew, bastard.

The chase began, again, Prez furiously typing to briefly counter the AIs jam on their missile locking system. She had to get this right, to time the brief window of firing, the brief window of what she presumed the AIs automatic flare launch and missile firing to be.

Monarch got closer, test firing the gun to keep Crimson trapped in a narrow avenue of where he couldnt turn or backflip without being shredded, a testament to how good Prez's pilot was.

"I cant keep this up forever Prez!"

"I know! Just hang on a bit more"

"He's gonna slip away!"

The pressure mounted enough that the ever present dread of anxiety was making her knees quiver in a nervous bundle. She had to get this right, not only for her but for Monarch.

She finished her jamming routine and smashed the enter button and then took over the weapons systems, Monarch swore but kept on course, cutting through the jamming and briefly restoring the missile lock as the micro missiles timer in her head was about to fire. With a few seconds to go and with the cockpit backlighted by the apocalyptic scenes outside, Prez grabbed the trigger on the joystick with both hands and thumbed the trigger.

A single missile fired and the micro missile timer flashed to zero, but this time the AI popped the flares first to redirect Monarchs missiles and _then came_ the micros.

This time though, there wasn't any flares to stop them from locking onto the first thing they saw, Monarch had already dodged and was a kilometre behind.

Prez had already tuned into Crimsons angsty screeching when his AI's automatic routine backfired and no matter how hard he dodged, that many missiles at close range practically shredded into the pods they had just fired from, twin explosions rocketed outwards and Crimson just lost his best weapon.

After all, Monarch never relied on AI or fancy tricks.

Prez smirked.

"Go get him Monarch!"

And Monarch obliged.

Ten minutes of switching between each other, coordinating like they were ants in a hive and moved in single purpose rather than just a simple WSO and pilot , Monarch would put all the effort into the perfect missile hit while Prez watched their back with flares and the occasional gun spray into Crimson Ones aircraft. Some people said that Prez and Monarch had good chemistry and they proved it again. They trusted each other enough far beyond simply working together of course.  
  
~~~~

When Crimson had finally kicked the proverbial bucket and exploded into a million pieces, Prez had Monarch take them into the clouds and then above, far away from the dust storms, the lightning and the source of long range communication interference, they were low on fuel but also weaponless.

A minute or two of searching, of expert fingers and a lot of hoarse asking and they finally found a AWACS, one that was assigned to another theatre but a AWACS nonetheless, Prez had explained their situation and a tanker was sent their way, from there it was three hours of flying to a air force base at the southern tip of Cascadia, one that was just far away enough to avoid the apocalyptic ruin of the capital but close enough for them to land on half a tank.

After that it was smooth sailing, a slightly wobbly bullet hol'd touch down followed by a lot of stretching and sore legs and a glass of water or two. Monarch had already removed their helmet and was being greeted by the AWACS and the few pilots left while Prez was already typing up a brief after-action report and noting the damage done to their plane on a diagnostic program loaded into her suite. Sure Monarch always got the fun but Prez kept the plane running, without Prez ol'Monnie would probably never get off the runway, or find the directions to the local fast food joint.

Still, being crew chief and the number one pilot's WSO had its perks. Prez smiled to herself and shut down her suite, unplugging the data drives in there for safe keeping and toggling off a hellish amount of switches, then came the painfully slow task of actually extracting herself out of the cockpit.

"Hey, need a hand?" Monarch called out from under the portable stairway that the ground crew had put next to their plane. Prez nodded and grabbed Monarch's hand as they hauled her out.

Stumbling out of the cockpit and clutching onto the handrail with tired shaky limbs and possible dehydration, Prez mumbled a "thank you" with a "no problem" in response.

Helmet came off, glass of water in.

"That was tough huh, you holding up alright?" Monarch asked as they stood together.

"Yeah I'm good for the next trip back home if we're planning to leave soon"

"Eh it doesnt look so bad here, maybe stay the night or something"

"With you snoring? I'll put my helmet back on"

"Bitch"

"Oi, watch that mouth or I wont direct you to McDonalds next time"

"Double bitch"

"Heh, you know me"

Prez looked up at Monarch and blinked slowly, they only stood a bit taller but enough height difference to her to rest a post adrenaline fueled head on, she mumbled a wordless response and Monarch put their arm around her shoulder.

"For real though, I'm alright. Bit tired though" Prez admitted.

"You look it" Monarch rubbed Prez's upper arm with a gloved hand. "And sound like it too"

"I've had worse, and besides that guy was a pain in the ass. He literally screamed the entire way though"

"I know right?"

"What a dick, he spent all that money or somebody elses on a plane that hit itself with its "own" missiles"

She huffed and nestled into Monarchs shoulder, burying deep into the comfy flight suit as much as she could.

"Hey Prez"

"Yeah?" Came the sleepy response.

"Thanks for sticking by me and helping as much as you did in that fight, I dont think I could have done it without you" Prez swore Monarch was blushing as they actually admitted something, normally everyone was used to seeing the flight lead brute force through impossible odds.

Prez allowed herself a soft smile and wrapped her own arm around Monarchs upper back. "Its what you're WSO is for"

"And" She squeezed Monarchs upper arm back, just like they did hers. "I wouldn't have made it through without my awesome flight lead, and pilot"

Monarch chuckled and shifted themselves before putting their head to Prez's forehead in close intimacy between them. "I'm glad Prezzie"

Nuzzling into Monarchs neck and blinking slowly with a loud exhale, Prez smiled. "I'm glad too Monnie"

They stayed there for a while, huddled together as close as they would get without physically being in the cockpit and flying together. Prez was happy and she was pretty sure Monarch was too. Nice slow breathing between the two of them, no combat or stress factors. Just a moment of peace between a pilot and their WSO before duty called and they would have to fly out again to some part of the world that needed a top notch Mercenary.

But this merc didn't fly alone, that merc had a WSO and this WSO had her pilot.  
  
~~~~~~~

Prez is best girl, I hope we get more two seaters so I'm not stuck to a F-14 in all missions. I hope you enjoyed this wholesome little piece I wrote and if you liked then feel free to leave a comment, I might write more Project Wingman/Ace Combat in the future.


End file.
